AlucardxOC 1shot
by Crimson Drug
Summary: just like the title, suggested setting... 16th centuryish, though I suppose it doesn't really matter. My first attempt at anything like this


"It's done." Alucard mentioned simply, still holding in his arms the woman he loved. She was beautiful; long, ebony hair falling past her waist, pallid skin and dark, defined eyes accenting her sharp features well. A true gothic beauty he mused, catching a strand of her hair in his fingers and drawing it out. Her name was Heather, and the blood was still fresh on her neck from where he'd bitten her, crimson staining the sheets where she'd slept. He'd made her a Vampire, and now she was his.

"It wasn't unpleasant, you know," she murmured, touching two fingers to the newly inflicted wound. "And though I have committed to this willingly, I fear it is perhaps more than I am capable of holding myself to." A small stirring of curiosity welled up within the Nosferatu,

"Regret?" he asked, arms wrapped around her petite frame.

"None at all. It is merely the point that I am your slave. You'd explained this to me a considerable time ago Alucard, and I suppose my pride has finally caught up with me. The simple fact is that I have no choice but to obey you, until I have earned my own rite as a Nosferatu and the code dictates that you release me. Truly, if I were anyone else, I'd be calling you Master now. I've lost control, and it's something I've never felt before. That's all, I suppose." Her words earned a soft sigh of concern from her lover, elder Vampire resting his face in her hair, mouth practically brushing against her ear.

"Such harsh words... you know I'd never hold you to such a thing." His voice was soft, a mere whisper of comfort and solace.

"Please," she began, voice harboring no edge, "does the code of the Nosferatu not have rules about such a thing? Trivial though you may make it out to seem, your kind appears to place high value in formal titles." Heather said this in the same way she said most everything else - objective and unbiased, as if viewing the world through a glass as opposed to living it directly.

"It merely states that I am to release you through my own blood once I believe you could hold your own as a true Nosferatu, nothing more."

Heather let out a long, slow breath. Leisurely, the young woman turned to face her beloved, crimson eyes locking onto his for only a moment before she turned to rest her head against his chest. A smirk played across the Nosferatu's face as he watched her, still holding his arms over her bare shoulders. She was striking, that much was undeniable. In the end however, this wasn't what made him turn her. True enough, he'd noticed her because of her beauty, but when it came to something as superficial as appearance, there would always be another capable of filling that particular void. No, what caught him was her pure intellect. While other women were refining themselves to being housewives and seamstresses, Heather had become a Medic and a Chemist. And even beyond this, there was her burning audacity. If she hadn't shown it clearly enough by the simple act of taking up a man's profession, seeing her attending to her vocation was enough to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Of course, one would assume any individual who'd taken up such a trade would do it in order to 'help people'. To the Nosferatu's elation, Heather wasn't nearly so cliché. The reason she'd gone into that line of work was because she wanted to _understand._ Not simple things, like how to cure a cardiac ailment or a disease of the lungs, but why they happened in the first place. She wanted to be on the forefront; to learn the small secrets of the world and have the power to discover new ones, As one could imagine, such a drive made her not only a singularly gifted Medic, but a brilliant Diagnostician. And to a degree, he'd loved her from the very beginning.

"You know, I never feared you," she asserted, voice soft but point clear nonetheless. "I never want to," Alucard closed his eyes for a moment, gently brushing his lips over the wound on her neck,

"I will never give you reason to."


End file.
